


Class of 2277

by broccococcoli



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 3
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Hurt/Comfort, but not like in a romantic way bc cross is way to old for my lw, uuuuuuuuugh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-11
Updated: 2019-04-11
Packaged: 2020-01-11 08:10:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18426537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/broccococcoli/pseuds/broccococcoli
Summary: Dad, am I still young? Can I dream for a few months more?





	Class of 2277

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by "Class of 2013" by Mitski. that song normal makes me want to cry, but since i've been playing fallout 3 it gave me majors James and lone wanderer feels so i wrote this. i highly recommend checking out her music though she has so many good songs. 
> 
> Featuring my LW, Jon Mattisse.

Jon could still see his father lying motionless on the floor of the Project Purity lab sometimes. He didn’t like to think, or talk about it, much like anyone who had to watch his father die after sacrificing his life to save him, but sometimes he lets it loose, if only for a moment. People in the Citadel keep offering their condolences, as if they could possibly know what this feels like. He’s only nineteen, his dad is dead. He had to watch him die, and now he was all on his own. 

Cross hadn’t met the young son of her past friend until after his passing. He was still very green around the gills, of course, but he had this tired, slightly feral look at about him that betrayed the trials he’d been through since he left Vault 101. She honored to travel with the son of the man she had once admired and trusted before he left for the vault, but she was also scared for him. He was just a child still, and she felt obligated to watch over him.

“What is our destination?” Cross asked her companion. 

“Place called Little Lamplight,” Jon said. He trudged along, hands in his pockets. He tried to maintain an air of nonchalance, but he was very clearly failing. Cross could hear the tenseness and forced nature of his voice. He was holding something in. 

“Little Lamplight,” Cross said. “Think I heard of that before.”

“Yeah, it’s some kinda cave or something,” Jon said. “Rothfield or whatever his name is said it was the safest way into Vault 87 and we’d be able to find a GECK in there. Or, might be able, I guess.”

“For Project Purity, I presume?” Cross asked.

“Yup.”

“Oh.” 

An awkward silence fell between them. They walked a few more meters and Cross couldn’t bare it any longer. She had to say something.

“Jon-”

No sooner had she opened her mouth than had Jon interrupted her. “Is that a radio tower?” he queried. It was almost like he could sense an awkward conversation coming on and purposefully put a stop to it. Cross sighed and followed him to the gate, which the boy pushed open eagerly. He dashed to the tower, filled with curios energy. After inspecting it for a moment, he slipped a switch nearby, then looked down at his Pipboy. As he fiddled with the nobs, Cross could hear the telltale sound of radio static. After a few moments, the signal became slightly more clear and she could faintly make out a message being broadcasted in morse code. 

“CQ… CQ… CQ… DE… PN… PN… PN… K…” and then it repeated. 

“Did you parse any of that?” Jon asked. 

“Yes, in fact I did,” Cross answered. “Some one’s calling for anyone in the surrounding area to respond. They call themselves ‘Papa November’.”

“Hm,” Jon said. “Guess we gotta go find them.”

“Wait, won’t that take time away from our mission?” 

“Nah, just a little detore. They can’t be too far from here since we’re right next to the radio tower they were transmitting from. Let’s go.”

“If you’re sure…” 

The spent the next forty minutes searching the surrounding area for any signs of life until they came upon the entrance to some sort of underground bunker. Jon pulled the grate off and climbed the down the ladder, Cross following him close behind. Once in side, the found a skeleton, long dead, laying on the ground next to a ham radio. 

“Well,” Jon said, kicking an empty can nearby. “Guess that answers the burning question of who was sending that message.” 

“I’ve… been here before,” Cross said. “We found this place a while ago. Thought maybe it lead to something useful, but it didn’t amount to anything.” 

“Well,” Jon sighed. “It was a nice distraction.”

“From what?” Cross inquired. 

“Do you really expect me to answer that?” Jon tried to give her a pointed stare, but his tired yet young eyes gave him away. 

“Yes,” Cross said. “You’re running away from something, Jon, and I have a feeling it has something to do with your father.”

Jon scoffed. “As if you would care,” he said. 

“Actually, I do. I may have not been there, but I have lost comrades on the battlefield before. I know how much it hurts to lose someone, especially the first time it happens.” 

Jon said nothing, just stared at his boots.

“I knew your father, Jon. We’re all hurting to learn that he’s gone. I can only imagine how you must feel right now.” Cross unstrapped her super sledge from her back and rested it against the wall. She took a step closer. “You don’t have to run away from this,” Cross said. “I know it’s frightening, but you have to face it before you can move on.” 

Jon looked up at Cross, his eyes wet and chin quivering. His hand flew to his face and he jammed his fists in his eye sockets. Sobs rang out in the stuffy chamber as they racked through his body. He sunk to the floor, sitting on his knees. 

“He was all I had left,” he between gasping sobs. “The people in the vault- my friends… they wanted to kill me so I only had my dad left and now he’s gone.” 

Cross took a knee, leveling herself with his face. She placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “It’ll be alright,” she said. “You’re a capable young man, Jon.”

“I don’t think so,” Jon said. He sniffed and wiped snot and tears from his face. “In his holotapes he said… I’m all grown up… I don’t need him anymore… but he was wrong. I’m not, I… I need him.” 

“That may be true,” Cross said with a sigh. “But I think he would want you to press on, go on without him.”

“I don’t even care about this… stupid fucking… Project Purity bullshit,” Jon said. “I just wanted my dad back, and now I’m stuck picking up where he left off. I just wanted things to go back to normal.”

Cross was at a loss for words. His old normal was gone now, especially with his father dead. She couldn’t really offer any solution. 

Before she had the chance to finally speak, Jon surged forward and hugged her. It was uncomfortable, since she was decked out in full power armor, but nonetheless she hugged him back, being as gentle and comforting in her movements as she could. 

“Thank you, Cross,” Jon said. “I’m glad I have someone I can trust.”


End file.
